Hopes and Fears
by Kaglen
Summary: A companion story to my short series of Christmas stories entitled 'I'll be home for Christmas'. Beth's thoughts on Christmas Eve 1944.


**HOPES AND FEARS**

Beth watched the dusk fall very gently across the familiar view form her window. A pale grey mist had started to gather and ice crystals already glistened on the road and nearby trees. A group of officers entered the Mess; they were laughing, probably discussing last night's dance and planning their evening strategy. Light spilled from the doorway for a moment and was gone, 'blackout' had been relaxed but people were used to the security of darkness and few took advantage of the new rules. She closed the thick curtains, and then turned on the bedside lamp, old habits die-hard.

The young woman looked at the clock, High Tea was being served but she did not want to make polite conversation over tea and toast, she would have duty supper later. Beth took her greatcoat from the bed, shrugged into the heavy garment, then made her way quickly downstairs. She paused to put on her hat, pull on brown leather gloves and to check her appearance in the obligatory full-length mirror. The Christmas tree in the foyer shimmered as she passed by, its homemade decorations supplementing the few remaining pre-war baubles. Paper chains rustled in the draught from the open door as the officer stepped outside leaving the light and warmth behind her.

She walked past the darkened windows of the camp; there were few people about. Day workers would be in their barracks or having their meal, duty staff were due to go on at 20.00hrs but she had promised to be early. Following the well know route her solitary footsteps echoed harshly on the glittering path and her breath hung in little clouds before the frosty air claimed it. She stopped for a moment. The thickening mist rose only to tree height, above that the sky was clear, its dark expanse studded by thousands of stars. It was very beautiful, very quiet and very cold. Beth sighed softly, huddled closer into her coat and moved on.

Freezing air accompanied her into the Operations Block, clinging to her as she went along the corridor to the office. She felt her face tingle when the relative warmth hit her, but in the early hours of the morning she knew there would be a creeping coldness in the building and her greatcoat would be needed.

"Good evening, Dot." Beth spoke quietly, as she took off her outdoor clothing.

"Hello Beth. Thanks for standing in for me tonight." The other woman smiled, pleased to see that her relief had come in early.

"That's all right; I know you would do the same for me."

Dot began to get ready to leave giving a running commentary as she handed over and dressed at the same time.

"There is nothing happening at the moment. Squadron Leader Lamb is on duty, he has allowed the girls to read, write letters or listen to the wireless until things pick up." Beth nodded and signed her name in the logbook. There was a short silence. "Well, I'd better make tracks. Thanks again. Good night."

Once she was alone Beth read the daily log entries, checked the signals and went to inform the Officer in Charge that she was covering the duty for Section Officer Talbot. The WAAF's liked Squadron Leader Lamb known affectionately to all of them as 'Baa' and regarded as a father figure by most. He chatted briefly and gave her a kind but rather sad smile as she turned to go back to her desk. One of the aircraftswomen brought her a cup of tea; she sipped the warm liquid, listening to the soft music and murmur of conversation through the partially open door, the sounds were comforting in their familiarity.

Continuing to drink her tea, Beth thought about her visit that afternoon to the small Church in the village. She had taken the time for a few moments of silent reflection, but her solitude was broken when the Vicar arrived. They had talked, though it was true that she had done most of the talking while he simply listened.

How easy it had been to open her heart to a relative stranger. His faith was absolutely solid and yet he understood why she had sometimes questioned hers over the past five years. He left her with a blessing and went about his business, lighting candles beneath the stained glass windows, delighted at being able to do so for the first time since 1939. The flickering light played gently upon the rich reds and deep blues, breathing life into the figures and warmth much greater than purely physical warmth to the bitterly cold Church. There, amid the quiet calm, were the feelings of expectancy and hope found only on Christmas Eve.

Those feelings were still with her, reminiscent of the excitement of childhood, tempered now with the awareness of an adult and accompanied by an inner peace she had not felt for weeks. Taking the top off her pen she began to write.

_24th December 1944._

_Dear Craig,_

_Christmas Eve, the time for peace on earth, goodwill to all men and the world is still at war. How I wish it would all end, then life could return to normal, although I'm not really sure I know what normal is anymore. Isn't it strange how everything seems so intense at this time of year, hope and despair, joy and sorrow, all much more powerful at Christmas? Being separated from you is never easy, now it is almost unbearable and yet, even though we are apart I feel very close to you tonight._

_I've lost count of the number of letters I have written to you in my head over the past weeks but this time it seemed important to put words onto paper, though you may never read them. I wonder how many letters have been written during the last five years and how many of them were never read. Lost due to enemy action, returned because there was no house to deliver to or because there was no body to deliver to. Then there are ones like this, written and never posted because there is nowhere to send a letter to someone who is 'Missing in Action'._

_What imaginings those words conjure in the mind, I try to block them out but it doesn't always work and I am so frightened for you. In my stronger moments I know that 'missing' is just that, it is not final and therefore there is hope. I try not to think that your body may be lying somewhere, broken and cold or that your eyes may be dulled by death. I do not believe that I will never wake in your arms again nor feel the touch of your hand against my skin. I cry for you but I will not mourn._

_Your sister wrote to tell me what had happened, I have no status with the army, I am just someone who loves you. It can't have been an easy letter for her to write and my heart went out to her. I am so pleased you encouraged me to contact your family all those months ago; they have been such a comfort, despite their own fears._

_I have been working extra duties, I'm at work now, keeping busy is supposed to help – it does and it doesn't. The ache inside is there every waking moment and there are constant reminders wherever I go. A tune we danced to plays on the wireless. I see a gesture or hear a comment – yours but not you and each time my heart twists and another hope dies. The waiting makes me feel as though I am permanently holding my breath. It hurts to hold on to but I am scared to let it go in case that should hurt more or I never breathe again._

_The Army sent your things home; amongst them was a letter you wrote to me before you went away and to be opened only if you did not come back. Your family sent it on to me. I didn't want to open it at first, I thought I would be tempting fate but I cannot change fate and I did read it. The letter made me cry, as you knew it would. I will treasure your words forever. Just as I treasure every precious moment we have had together and cherish the love we share._

_How do I finish a letter I cannot post? I really don't know. All I can do is keep it. I do not know where you are, or even if you are still alive. There is so much I wanted to tell you but I do not have the words. With all my heart I hope that someone is watching over you, that you are safe and that one-day you will come back. Goodnight Craig, wherever you are._

_Yours always._

_Beth._

_PS. I love you._

Beth folded the paper, slipped it carefully into an envelope and sealed the flap. She sat back turning the letter over slowly in her hands, lost in private thoughts and bittersweet memories. A sharp knock on the door snapped her back to the present and she looked up to see a WAAF Corporal dressed to go outside.

"Squadron Leader Lamb sends his compliments Ma'am. It's getting busier and you are needed." The young woman paused. "I'm going off duty now; would you like me to post the letter for you?"

Beth stood up and looked down at the envelope in her hands.

"That's kind of you but I don't have the address."

"I'll be off then. Goodnight Ma'am and Merry Christmas." The corporal saluted and left the office.

"Merry Christmas." Said Beth softly. She traced her fingertips very lightly across the name on the envelope, placed it gently on the desk and left the room.


End file.
